Pills
by Stars in the Sky at Noon
Summary: Seven years have passed since Masamune Kadoya left America. Zeo has struggled to afford Toby's treatment, and Toby against his illness. When Masamune returns to New York, how will the two friends react? Not to mention he brings friends and with them, more drama. Romance, secrets, issues...what are they all hiding from one another? Dedicated to my good friends Quentin and Justin.
1. Ill Will

**PILLS**

Recently cured, thanks to the relentless efforts and sacrifices made by his good friend Zeo, Toby prepares for his last operation and to move out of the hospital. When Masamune Kadoya returns after seven long years, though, how will the bitter feelings of Zeo Abyss and Toby's joy at this news clash? If that wasn't enough, Masamune has brought more friends from Japan with him, and more drama along with it. In Toby's final months at the hospital, everyone around him finds that they, as a family, might need more repairing than even a hospital or medicine can offer.

* * *

**Hello... I'm not entirely sure how to start this off. It's my first fanfic. How about with a few warnings?**

**This fanfic is rated T due to the involvement of drugs, blood, mental illness, a teensy bit of violence at one point, and swearing. (I know some of us are sensitive to bad words. I'm sorry. TT TT) **

**Seeing as this is my first fanfic...reviews would be nice! Long and detailed if you can, and preferably constructive criticism, but I appreciate the "good job!"s just as much. **

**There's a couple of things you ought to take note of for the setting in this story. **

**First of all, the Ziggurat fiasco NEVER HAPPENED. There was nothing to do with Zeo ever joining Team Star Breaker, or any of that complicated stuff to do with the arrangement. However, the World Championships did happen, proceeding mostly according to the original series: Japan won and met a bunch of cool people, blah, blah, blah.**

**Secondly, I know that Sophie and Wales are supposedly siblings, but this fanfic... THEY'RE NOT! Okay? I can understand if it feels weird, though.**

**Lastly, as for whether the Metal Fury series ever took place... I don't know. I don't think it would have. I can't decide but it doesn't really matter...it's not relevant to the story. **

**Thank you! Review! Enjoy! PM me if you want a response- I simply don't have the time to spare with reviews. Sorry! **

* * *

_ Chapter One~ Ill Will_

_Zeo was hesitant. He couldn't simply let Masamune just leave. What would they do? Zeo's family certainly didn't have the money to pay for Toby's medical needs. Sure, all three of their familes combined could only chip in for a fraction of the cost, but he and Masamune were both working part-time jobs in the hope of raising enough money for their sick friend. _

_For a moment, one tenacious moment, Zeo wondered if he should reveal Toby's true condition to his clueless friend; the bloodstained sheets, the medical reports, the oxygen mask he wore when he slept, the painkillers they hid from him in the drawer..._

_He swallowed. "Masamune, wait." He tried to force the words to form at his lips. _'There's something I've got to tell you about Toby's condition... The doctors are saying he won't pull through... Masamune, I need you to stay. Toby needs you...'_ The words all died at his throat. He couldn't seem to make a single sound. _

_"Got to. I have to find this Ginga guy..." _

_Something about hearing those words plunged Zeo into paralysis. Masamune, yet again, making a stupid decision: flying halfway across the world to challenge a stranger from television when their friend needed him most...no. It wasn't stupid, it was reckless. What was he thinking? The timing was absolutely terrible. _

_Masamune was already running off before he knew it, before he got to say even a word of what he wanted. "Masamune, wait!" _

_His old friend didn't wait. He never did. As always, as usual, he plunged into the crowd and disappeared. Zeo would never see him again, and with so many things left unsaid. But those unspoken words were the last thing on his mind, for all he could worry about..._

_'...Toby.'_

* * *

Zeo awoke with a start. He glanced around warily. It was night. Faint orange light pooled through the window from a street lamp.

He was sitting on a stool; as he roused and stretched he felt his spine crack.

Rolling his head around in counter-clockwise circles, he massaged it with a stiff hand. _'I must have slept on it kinda funny.' _

Standing, he walked over to the window and stared outside. The hospital lawn was bathed in orange and white, and not a single speck of white light shone in the sky. This was, after all, the city. When in New York, Zeo had learned to never look for the stars. If you wanted to see pretty colours in the sky, you'd have to wait until New Year's Eve.

He kept his footsteps light and stealthy, as to not wake Toby. Seldom was his friend so sound asleep ever since the sickness took such a terrible grip on his life. Zeo figured he must have fallen asleep with the other boy earlier, when they were still talking. Peeking over, he saw creases in the sheets were his head had lain, and rubbing his face, felt marks on his cheek.

Leaning on the windowsill, he watched his friend's limp, sleeping figure while he brooded to himself silently.

He dreamt The Dream again tonight.

The memory of seven years past still burned inside him. Really, it was amazing how long he could make a grudge last. Still, he couldn't decide whether it was his grudge that fuelled The Dream, or if The Dream was what always brought his grudge back to life.

Why did he even bother trying to remember this kid? As far as he was concerned, Masamune Kadoya was nothing more than a relic of the past; a symbol of betrayal. He thought back to his blustery, loud, bossy voice. His annoying habit of acting like a know-it-all. The ridiculously insatiable appetite that he couldn't ever bother to restrain from eating Toby's food when their ill friend needed his strength most. Why was he ever friends with that guy in the first place?

Twenty years old, and in his fifth year of high school. Most people would be surprised, and he was too. Zeo had always been a good student. Even throughout family, financial and friendship strains, he'd been known for scoring straight A's.

But after his third year at Dungeon High, he had to get a job instead. His parents had understood. He had to take care of Toby. That guy still meant the world to him, even if Masamune had left them both for good. That rat could go back to Japan for all Zeo cared. _Let him skulk in the sewers, _he fumed, _but I'll still take care of Toby. _

**Bang!**

He couldn't help it. It was a reflex; he had to hit something. Just thinking of that guy...it made him... So mad!

Toby jumped, awoken from his sleep. "H-huh?" He rubbed his eyes, glancing around timidly. "Who's there?"

All hatred and anger Zeo felt instantly melted when he saw the lost look on his friend's tired face. Already, he felt guilty for thinking about the issue so selfishly. If anyone was suffering, it was Toby.

"Toby." He rushed over to his bedside. "It's just me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Toby just gave a tired smile and yawned. "N-nah... It's okay. I haven't slept so well in ages."

Zeo allowed a smile to crack his composure. "Well, it means the treatment's finally starting to pay off."

"Yeah." Toby gave a good-natured grumble. "About time, too." Zeo's laugh was more out of relief than humour.

He glanced down at his watch. It was past three in the morning, and he'd come here on his bike. Good thing it was a Sunday- he still had to catch up on an essay for Philosophy, and his Calculus homework was due tomorrow. The trains weren't open, so it'd take him at least half an hour to get home. It was dark outside, but Zeo knew that if anyone found him here he might get in trouble for staying so long after visiting hours. Anyway, his parents would be worried, though they were probably asleep by now.

He snatched his keys from the night-stand and patted the still-sleepy Toby's hand. "Rest up, bud. I gotta get moving. It's pretty darn late." He was headed for the door, sneaking by as quietly as he could, when the croak made him stop. "Zeo..."

He turned. "Yeah, Toby?" He asked softly. "What is it?"

Toby's breathing was clear, for a change, but Zeo could still remember how, barely two months ago, he couldn't even breathe without an oxygen mask doing it for him. The sheets had been stained with blood, and dirty strands of long, pale brown hair were scattered amongst the stains.

"Zeo..." He looked out the window and shook his head. "I just really wanted to say...thank you."

Zeo blinked, a bit surprised by this sudden turn in conversation. He walked back to his friend with a sigh, and pressed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Look, I told you this million times before: you don't owe me anything."

"No, Zeo." Toby's voice was strangely dreamy and distant; he wondered he was feeling okay. "I just wanted to thank you...for everything. I mean, working jobs for a year...just because I was sick...taking care of me..." He drew in a slow, shaky breath. "I really appreciate it, Zeo. I mean, you could have gone to a good college with that money." His voice cracked. "Your grades, you would've gotten a scholarship..."

"Ssshh." Zeo did his best to ease his sentimental friend. It'd been so long since he made the decision, but Toby still couldn't let the matter drop. "Just try and go to sleep. You need to rest up. You're getting out of this hospital soon, Toby. You can go to college too."

Toby relaxed, lying back with his head comfortably snuggled in the pillow. "You know, Zeo..." His eyes glistened sadly as he spoke. "I told you I'm waking up just 'cuz I'm sick..." He gave a bitter laugh, only pausing once for a light cough. "But I've been having these dreams, Zeo." The pillow rustled as he shook his head sadly.

Zeo tensed. "What...kind of dreams?" He asked cautiously.

"Oh, you know..." Toby's eyes had drawn back into that distant and faraway look again. "Me, you, Masamune...all of us wanting to become beybladers... We were a good team, you know." He gave a hoarse chuckle. "And we went to movies together... Masamune would always eat all the popcorn."

When his friend didn't respond, he glanced up at him worriedly. "What's wrong? Don't you remember, Zeo?"

Zeo couldn't give a proper answer. "Yeah, I remember." He gave Toby's hand a light squeeze and stepped to the doorway. "Like I said, I gotta go...but sleep tight, Toby. I'll visit tomorrow, if I can."

"Okay..." Toby's voice was clear of suspicion, but still sounded genuinely puzzled.

Zeo propped up his bike from where it lay by the door, pushing up the kickstand. He grabbed his backpack from the ground and shouldered it onto his back. "Oh yeah, and Toby..." His friend looked up, seeming surprised.

Zeo swallowed, but forced his voice to go through. "It's no problem. All of it, really. I'm going to HD Academy next year. You can go back to school once you're out of the hospital. Everything's going to be fine."

Toby stared at him for a while, his violet-blue eyes gleaming curiously. Finally, in a quavering voice, he spoke. "Thanks, Zeo."

It only took minutes for his friend's soft breathing to lapse back into snores before Zeo guided his bike, with some difficulty, out the hospital room.

The rattling sound of the spinning chain echoed through the hallways. Hoping he hadn't disturbed anyone, he took the elevator downstairs. But not before he noticed the symptom.

He reached for the button, and pressed. The button didn't respond. He tried again.

Grumbling to himself about crappy elevator maintenance, he reached over, but this time, he realized, his fingers just brushed uselessly over the buttons.

Slowly, he lifted his hand. His finger quivered more than a frightened old man.

"Dammit!" This time using his right hand, he punched the button and the elevator doors closed with a small ding.

As he rode home, he thought about what Toby said.

_Remember the good old days?_

He might as well have been asking Zeo how nice it was to cut your tongue out and eat it for dinner.

Toby was different. He was just fragile, was all, and too delicate to realize Masamune was nothing more than a reminder of their childhood. For Zeo, a painful reminder. Once he got out of the hospital and regained his confidence, Zeo could start explaining everything- starting with the fact that Masamune Kadoya was never coming back. He hadn't written a letter, or called, emailed, texted, nothing. Not even a small shout-out on an interview.

As far as Zeo was concerned, he didn't know a Masamune Kadoya. Or at least he didn't know the person Masamune Kadoya had become.

* * *

"Cheers!"

Glasses clinked and a few whoops flew up as they all toasted to a brand-new retirement and promotion.

"Congratulations," Madouka chirped happily, eyeing the prideful Tsubasa beside her, "to the new president of the WBBA!"

"Not to mention," Hikaru chimed in with a rueful glance towards Ryo, "our old president's retirement."

Everyone released a herd of small 'aww's of sentiment.

The guests broke off into smaller groups of conversation: Tsubasa with Hikaru, Ryo and Ginga; Kenta worriedly asking Yu to help him study for a test; Madouka chatted with MeiMei and Sophie, seeming very pleased to see other girls at the party; Klaus and Wales, now free of their normally cool demeanour, laughed at some of the jokes Benkei told them; Julian Konzern stood quietly at side, waiting to congratulate Tsubasa and watching with distaste as Masamune ravaged the snack bar.

Ginga, of course, was a bit sad that his father had retired. After all, retirement basically was like admitting you were getting old. He didn't dare say as much to Ryo, of course. Especially since this little party was in his dedication as well as Tsubasa's. But soon he found out his father had more plans than that.

"Hah!" Ryo slapped his knee and chuckled the moment the words "quiet retirement" flew from Hikaru's mouth.

"No way! I'll just to climb Everest or something?"

"Really?" Dry sarcasm dripped from Ginga's words. "You know that there's a whole process for just getting into Tibet. You need special passports or something, and even after that you've got to train...get the right gear..or find Sherpas, or something..."

Ryo shrugged. "Hey, hey, hey. Who ever said retiring would be easy."

A clinking glass made them all turn. Tsubasa was standing in the middle of the room, glass in hand and looking around, Julian beside him. The twenty-two year old's silver curtain of hair glowed even in the dim lamplight.

"I was hoping to say this later," he began, "but Julian and Wales have to leave soon..." He waited as several groans of mock complaint flew up. "...so I'll say it now."

Clearing his throat, he continued. "Anyway, soon after my promotion, the WBBA headquarters are moving to America." He gave time to let the message sink in. "And, following it... I'm moving to America."

The outburst was a pure cacophony; Benkei and Yu the most of it.

"What!"

"America? When!?"

"Why didn't you say so!"

Tsubasa tried not to look embarrassed as they screeched and hollered. "Well, I only received the news...not too long ago..."

The only one amongst who didn't look surprised was Ryo. He stood calmly to the side, chuckling at the full-sized reaction. Ginga glanced at his father in confusion and disbelief, but Ryo simply smiled and winked.

"Where will you be going?" Ginga could just barely hear Julian's polite, quieter inquiry.

Tsubasa lowered his head. "New York," he mumbled, scratching his glass awkwardly.

"New York?" Masamune sprung to his feet, a wild look in his eyes. "No way! You mean the one with Times Square? The Statue of Liberty? The-"

"Empire State building," Tsubasa cut in, "where the new WBBA headquarters will be."

Masamune relaxed and gave a sigh. "Oh, man... NY... Haven't been there since I was what, thirteen?"

Everyone stared at him in disbelief. "You've been to New York, Masamune?" Kenta asked quietly.

Masamune's eyes bulged. "Been to? I _lived_ in New York!"

Madouka scoffed. "No way! In all the seven years you've been in Japan, you never told us you lived in New York City!"

Masamune scratched his head and gave a sheepish grin. "Yeah, well..." He gave a small, knowing sigh and stared at the ceiling. "Do you remember all the way back to when we were still kids-"

"Some of us," Julian interrupted abruptly.

"Yeah, well, it just means you're getting old, Julian," Masamune shot back, though seemingly unbothered. A few chuckles flew up.

"But anyway, when the Beyblade World Championships seven years back was going on, and... I met all of you..." He gestured around the room, at the sinking faces that were slowly melting into shared nostalgia.

"I was best buds with these two kids, Toby and Zeo. Real close. I mean, you couldn't see us going anywhere without one another. We all trained together at elementary school, with the Phys. Ed teacher Coach Steels." He gave a light, warmhearted chuckle. "That guy really knew his stuff when it came to beyblade and breaking your arms- so we were in good hands for not getting bullied. Anyway, point is, we were tight." His brows creased with sudden worry. "Something was wrong with Toby, though... He collapsed one day, not too long after I saw Ginga on television. And...because of that, I had to leave."

"Leave?" Madouka echoed. "Why?"

Masamune's face surged back with pride just as quickly. "To fight Ginga, of course! I had to do it, for Toby's sake. Once I won..." He pumped his fist. "Toby would get better! I know it!"

"And so, did he?" Yu inquired.

Masamune shrugged. "Of course! I don't need him to come tell me!"

At those words, everyone froze. "You...mean..." Klaus choked, "you haven't even contacted them ever since?"

Masamune shrugged. "The World Championships were on! I kind of...got swept up in the excitement!"

"Years later?" Madouka put in drily. Everyone laughed.

"Hey! I have a great idea!" Ginga's eyes were sparkling. "We should all go to New York and help Tsubasa move in!"

"It's a nice idea," Benkei grumbled, "But a certain someone here has a job of flipping hamburgers that won't really allow that financial freedom."

"Yeah, and Kenji and I still have to go to school," sixteen-year old Yu added glumly.

Half of them, by now, weren't even listening to either explanation.

"Remember those World Championships?" MeiMei whispered. She shot a shy glance towards the former EU representatives. "Team Excalibur was incredible..."

"And Dashan," Julian sighed. "An incredible man...he really taught me something, with that temple behind his back."

"Desert Blaze..."

"The Garcias..."

"I sure as hell don't miss that nasty bunch." Amused murmurs rippled through the group.

"Wild Fang..." Ginga had spoken louder than he meant to; everyone turned at the sound of his voice. "Kyoya."

Masamune breathed deeply. "And Nile..."

"Not to mention, Demure..." Tsubasa cast an exasperated glance to the bulky, bawling man beside him. "... And of course their most valuable member, the Bull."

"Man..." Yu's voice was quiet. "I haven't seen any of those three in ages."

"Yeah. They never called..." Madouka sighed heavily.

"Just disappeared after the World Championships."

"What happened to them, I can only imagine..."

"Great bladers; wasted talent."

Silence passed between them all as they reminisced about the days from seven years past. Only a small sniffle or scratch would occasionally break the silence.

Surprisingly, it was Julian who broke through the ice. "I have a mansion out in New York. Anyone who wants to go can stay there a while, I suppose. Tickets are up to you, though."

"Really?" Masamune's eyes lit up. "You're actually in for this, Julian? You'd be willing?"

Julian gave a shrug. "I have some business in New York. And besides, I think it's a neat idea." He glanced over towards his close friends. "What will you do?"

Wales's gaze flew straight to Sophie, who shrugged and smiled. "Sure. Sounds interesting." She tossed a lock of white-blue hair over her shoulder, one of the many enviable qualities of hers.

Klaus gave a curt nod. "If the rest of you are going, then I will too." He gave a roguish grin. "I don't plan on staying behind to house-sit."

Madouka smiled brightly. "Sounds like a plan."

"Okay!" Masamune's voice was the most cheerful of them all. "It's decided. We should organize more details later!"

"I couldn't agree more," Wales yawned. "Julian and I really ought to get going."

"Yu and I should tuck in too," Kenta agreed regretfully. "We have school tomorrow."

MeiMei stretched from where she was lounging on the couch. "Mmm. I'm tired. I think I'll get going, too."

"Okay." Ginga gave a determined nod. "Just make sure the details get passed around."

* * *

After the first five departed, the rest of them disappeared like flies. Another hour led to Ryo and Benkei's departure, and Klaus soon afterwards. Hikaru and Sophie left together, which left four former members of team GanGan Galaxy: Masamune, Madouka, Ginga and their host Tsubasa to talk about their days in the World Championships.

By now, Ginga was half-asleep due to his warm, full belly and the late hour. "Remember Kyoya?" He sighed dreamily. "We tied...that match..." He closed his eyes. "Had to be the best of my life."

Masamune was in a state similar to his. "You know," he mumbled, "all you've been talking about is Kyoya."

"Same to you," Madouka giggled, giddy from the wine. "You can't stop talking about your friends Zeo or Toby."

"Yeah, funny, isn't it?" He sighed. "Strange...to still remember so much about them...even though I haven't seen them in forever..."

* * *

**The first few chapters will seem to pass by a bit quickly though they're kind of boring, I know, but I want to jump straight into the gist of it. There will be minimal violence where I can manage, but some of the mental images in this story may grow...somewhat concerning. There won't be any dying, though, so don't worry.**


	2. Prescription

**Chapter II**

* * *

**As some of you might have noticed, I took down the previous version of chapter two... I just had to change it, since I kind of didn't like how it was going. Just too fast. I know I was really slow in reposting it though, and for that I am very sorry. **

**Sorry, but this chapter's kind of going to be a filler, in some sense : /**

**thank you to Chidsengan and GoldenAngel999 for reviewing. **

***FYI, the next chapter is mostly the same as what used to be the second chapter, but there's a small excerpt from a so-far unseen character in this fic, and a couple of edits.***

* * *

From inside the jet, the engines were nothing but a quiet hum - Tsubasa would have been more grateful, though, if they found a way to prohibit sound similarly, when it came from Masamune.

It was hard enough trying to get all the paperwork sorted out, while in a tighter space than he was used to, without the easily audible crunching of chips, boasts and curses at video games, bawdy and common laughter, not to mention a loud voice in general.

With a slight wince, Tsubasa rubbed his forehead. The headaches were coming back again.

Ah, yes. Airsickness, claustrophobical-paranoia and noisy distractions. This was totally his ideal working environment.

A couple of years ago, his friends in GanGan Galaxy would've made fun of him for being unable to handle planes. Whenever they had to get shipped off to the next tournament in one of these unpleasant steel beasts, he'd sleep off the entire ride in great discomfort, resting to the melodious tones of teasing until they landed. Unlike the old untruthful taunts that still rang through his head, he'd never puked on a plane. It was simply that the unnatural speed of ascension or descent into the atmosphere made his ears pop and ring. He got headaches from the never-ending roar of the turbines and engines. Heights and turbulence didn't bother him; the machine did. He preferred his methods of transportation to be free and natural - but unfortunately, being the president of the WBBA no longer gave him a choice.

Now, at the very least, he knew how Ryo felt - tied down by a desk job.

He held his head with a small groan, as was quickly noticed by Madouka, who was sitting across from him. "Airsick?" She queried, remembering the World Championships.

Tsubasa managed a tired smile. "It's just difficult to work with all the distractions." He was thankful she'd noticed, though - pointing it out would have seemed impolite, he thought.

Madouka glanced behind her, where Masamune seemed to be reacting something from a television show for an amused Ginga and irritably working Hikaru while simultaneously snacking on Cheetos. She made a face. "You want me to tell them to quiet down?"

Tsubasa shrugged. "Nah. It's fine." Before the words had even flown from his mouth, though, Madouka was already on the move.

"MASAMUNE KADOYA! If you don't shut your mouth in thirty seconds, I will personally kick your stupid ass of this plane!"

Tsubasa winced and buried himself behind his papers at Madouka's scream - even after all these years, her temper was to be feared.

He tried not to pay attention as the squabbling ensued - this was hardly any better for his focus - but it was hard not to hear at least some snippets of their back-and-forth sniping.

"But Madouka...just... Hey! ... My Cheetos...!"

"Get them...land in three... Snacking already...something else like sleep..."

Silence claimed the clearing at least, and Tsubasa exhaled deeply.

Peace.

His fingers, instinctively, flew to the leather necklace hidden under his collared shirt, that clutched three precious feathers in a knot: one mahogany, the second rusty-brown, and the last a creamy white.

His beloved eagle had passed away two years ago, and with it, a small part of him and his happiness.

Inwardly, he had to wonder whether or not he was happy as the president of the WBBA - to obtain this position, he had already sacrificed so much: his freedom, his dreams; the qualities that had once marked him as the man he used to be.

By accepting himself as a true heart of the WBBA, he'd given up his freedom to travel and do as he pleased. No longer was he destined to participate in a tournament or even a bey battle. He'd tied himself down to a modern civilization and a society with expectations on his performance and appearance - that had to be amongst what Tsubasa hated the most in his job. A stiff suit, sharp appearance, cropped hair, a decorative office. His apartment didn't need fixing, since he'd always been one for few possessions and a tidy home.

The days of his rucksack campout journeys on the dirt road were over. Now he had a house (or a condo, if you want to be picky), a job, a responsibility, with an entire nation to answer to.

Madouka returned, her face flushed and dress stained. "That idiot Masamune! I swear I will..." She muttered dark vows under her breath, that bore nothing but ill will and death. It would be dark times for Masamune very soon, indeed, Tsubasa cautioned himself with a compressed shudder.

"Do you know what he did? I walked off to go to the bathroom, then when I was walking back, he purposely spilled his drink on me!" She rolled her eyes. "That asshole! He can be so immature sometimes! Honestly, I wish Yu or Kenta were here to straighten him out."

She snatched a napkin from her tray and dabbed at the white fabric, mourning. "Oh, it was such a nice dress, too... Can you believe the nerve of that idiot? 'Oops,' doesn't even apologize..."

Tsubasa quickly recognized the dress from the golden collar and frilly hem. "Hey...isn't that...the dress I gave you last Christmas?"

Madouka froze halfway through her cleaning and instantly turned crimson. "Yeah, well, I thought it'd be a nice gesture, that's all..." She trailed off at Tsubasa's disapproving "tsk".

"This won't do," he said regretfully. "This will not do at all. Some full-time payback is in order."

A wicked grin flitted across Madouka Amano's normally innocent face. "You bet," she chuckled, sliding back into her seat.

* * *

Ginga liked planes.

Planes were really cool. The view was great, there was a steady provision of food, and you could relax while travelling thousands of miles. They were more comfortable than cars, and faster than trains. The ride was even better than usual; Masamune was a hoot. From a few minutes into the flight, he started getting bored and reenacting scenes from his favourite American TV show, called Wipeout. Ginga still didn't have a clue what it was about, but apparently there was a lot of accidents and something involving 'big balls'. It was hard not to chuckle at that.

His friend was completely pumped to revisit his hometown. "I can show you my old apartment, I'll introduce to Toby, and Zeo, and maybe some of my middle school buddies!" His face split into a wide grin. "Or Coach Steels! That guy was the best! He was the one who trained me, you know. Let's - go! Duuuun -geon!" He cheered.

Ginga watched in amusement, but Hikaru, beside him, was rather annoyed. "Pipe down," she snapped when Masamune began pretending to box himself. "There's a few of us trying to work in here. And hell knows that Tsubasa and Julian need quiet, with all their paperwork and business."

Masamune just shrugged and went back to eating his Cheetos.

Ginga stared out the window with a sigh. The clouds looked like a great, fluffy floor below them, for one to jump on and enjoy, though he knew it wasn't so.

The last time he'd been on a plane was when he was returning to Japan almost three years ago. His search for a certain Leone blader had resulted unsuccessful, and his temporary retirement from the competition became permanent with all the confusing advancements in beyblade. Age was a strong factor, he realized, in a more teenage or childish sport like beyblade. The moment you grew up and out of the zone, you were gone forever.

Kyoya was a missing fragment of his past, one that Ginga thought about every day; a green-haired, powerful, fierce, punkish and daily obsession. His dreams were still locked in fierce battle with his rival, but whenever he awoke, realizing it was all just a dream, every shard of sadness that was consequence of Tategami's disappearance returned to him. All he could think about after dreams like that was how lonely he felt. The real problem wasn't Kyoya being a missing fragment, it was because the Leone blader was the only fragment he really missed and wished desperately to return.

In the seven years he'd left, everyone seemed to retreat into their own group of friends. The girls had formed a small clique, and Tsubasa was occasionally in their midst. Team Excalibur still stuck together like glue - they even sat in a separate section of the plane from everyone else, per request. Yu, Kenta and Benkei were staying behind in Japan, which had sorely disappointed Ginga, but even those three, he had to admit, were closer to each other than to him. Wild Fang was...well, Wild Fang and had never exactly shared any close or special connection to him at all, besides Kyoya. Even China's representatives, Wang Hu Zhong, seemed completely disinterested in their distant Japanese buddies, minus MeiMei, of course.

Masamune and Ginga were well-connected in this sense, though. The lackwit youth was still plenty of fun to hang around with; he and Ginga still occasionally duelled with their blades from time to time, in the privacy of Koma village.

But now, Masamune was going to see his old friends. And where would that leave Ginga? Well outside the rest of the group, back at the beginning, without a single friend.

He recalled his days at Battle Bladers and the World Tournament. Back then, he was the leader. The glue of the group. How did things change so drastically, with the untraceable disappearance and simple, unsuccessful search of a Leone-wielding, green-haired teenager?

It wasn't the search that had divided them, Ginga knew deep down. It was time. Their drifting friendships were separated by time and distance, now to perhaps never return to each others' shores.

Although he hoped it wasn't so, Ginga had grown up already, alongside the others. He knew to finally recognize, as they already had, that the will to keep these bonds as tight as they could might just mean they required severing.

* * *

A sea of cameras flooded them in flashing bulbs of light as they disembarked from the plane.

The instant they stepped out and realized this, Madouka ran back inside the plane, embarrassed about the awful brown stain on her dress. She finally succumbed when Masamune found her a jacket she could wear on top to cover it with. Though they hadn't spoken since their little spat, Ginga was almost certain that Masamune felt guilty for his actions, and was taking responsibility for it.

"Here. Let me take that," he chuckled Masamune tried to untangle the sleeves of the coat. With swift, deft hands, Ginga undid the zipper and pulled out the sleeves, then draped it over Madouka's shoulders."Here you are."

Madouka gave him a warm smile. "Thanks, Ginga."

He swelled with pride. "No problem."

Tsubasa shouted a few orders to some of the flight attendants and pilots, then grabbed a small briefcase before turning back to the rest of them, who waited patiently. "Leave your heavy luggage here," he ordered. "Take nothing but your carry-ons. There's a swarm of photographers out there."

Ginga winced at the crowd. Swarm was right. They all crowded together like bugs, yelling and pushing one another out the way to get a proper view of the new WBBA president. If not for the barricades and numerous authorities keeping them at bay, he was certain they would have surged forth and knocked them all down.

Tsubasa was the first to plunge into the crowd, quickly followed by the ever-obedient Hikaru and a hasty Julian Konzern. His friends were only too eager to follow his lead: Wales rushed down the stairs, at his heels, his hand closed tightly over Sophie's for safety. Klaus walked past the crowd indifferently, as if he didn't notice a single thing was amiss. MeiMei speed walked behind him, giving the occasional shy smile when asked by one or two people.

Ginga took a deep breath. "Ready?" He asked his two remaining friends. Madouka shot a pointed glare at Masamune.

"No theatrics," she growled.

Masamune gave her a look so puzzled that Ginga couldn't tell whether it was false or not. "What're you talking about?" Madouka didn't have time to answer, because Ginga dragged them both to the stairs with him.

Immediately, his eyes threatened to be overtaken by the bright, flashing sea of lights. The cameras were still pointed in the others' direction, as they were the most recent celebrities, but the moment the paparazzi seemed to spot them, the lights began flashing in their direction.

Blushing furiously and walking briskly, with her jacket pulled tightly over her shoulders, Madouka did her best to avoid the camera glare. "C'mon," she muttered, ducking her head as she squeezed past Ginga. He was quick to follow her lead, but had to drag a seemingly stunned and star-struck Masamune with him.

They whisked past the cameras, following the staggered line their friends had created in their desperate escape from the media frenzy.

They made a beeline straight into a limousine, and just when they'd settled in, Julian barked "drive!" and they sped away.

"That was close," Hikaru sighed, pulling out her laptop.

"What was that all about?" Queried MeiMei curiously. "People never freaked out like that in Japan.

"Paparazzi," replied Julian, Hikaru, Tusbasa, Sophie and Masamune in unison.

"The media is crazy in America," said Julian quietly. "Every time a celebrity shows up in public, they get hassled by photographers trying to sneak in and maybe grab a picture or two." He gave a disdainful sniff. "It's quite intrusive, here."

"You'll get a lot more press here than you did in Japan," Masamune pointed out in Tsubasa's direction. "Beyblade's really taken off in America - you weren't kidding when you said it was popular. If anyone hits it big-time in the United States, they pretty much become an instant celebrity."

With an anxious glance at the former eagle blader, Ginga wondered if he would adjust with his normally quiet, relaxed and unresponsive nature. America might seem like a bigger change than they originally thought.

Tsubasa seemed to be brooding to himself again, perhaps dwelling on this problem or another. He could never tell with the eagle blader really - in fact, come to reflect on it now, many of the people Ginga had staked as his new friends probably hadn't been halfway close. Team Excalibur had always been more the legendary rivals, and he'd known more myths and grand stories about them than having actually talked with them. Same counted for Tsubasa, he supposed, since the silver-haired blader had always been something closer to a loner, but his occasional and temporary team ups had always been nothing more.

Ginga blinked rapidly, almost confused by this new, distorted perspective that was so warped from his youth. Had he really been so blind all this time? How could he have perceived so many 'friendships' the wrong way?

Masamune was pouting at the window. "Did you see all those paparazzi, though? Think any of them recognized us as Japan's former..."

"I hope not," Madouka snapped, "and it didn't help that I had coke stains on my dress!"

"Masamune shrunk back. "I'll buy you a new one..." he whimpered, but didn't say another word after that.

The limo took them directly to the Konzern mansion, which lay behind a set of back gates. The driver spoke into the intercom, and then they drove through to arrive at the front steps of their new home in America. For now, at least.

Everyone "ooh" and "aah"ed at the magnificent cottage.

The mansion was primarily built of solid black stone. Gray tiles were strewn across the ground to make a path leading to the wide front stairs. Balconies overlooked the grounds from three stories high, and sunlight streamed through wide, scenic windows.

"You come here just for vacations, Julian?" Masamune exclaimed, his voice two pitches higher from sheer excitement. "Heck, I'd live here of I could!" Julian's expression of boredom turned quickly to panic at those words.

As some servants collected the bags they had brought with them from the jet, MeiMei sighed dreamily. "Sophie, girl, when I get married, my man and I are coming to live with you."

Sophie chuckled, but clicked her tongue disapprovingly afterwards. "Not my house, Julian's," she reminded the Chinese girl.

"Sure," Julian grumbled. "Just let the whole lot run wild in here, but they have to pay for every scratch and spill."

Klaus's laugh was a deep rumble. "You could always make them pay rent."

"I suppose," Julian admitted distastefully.

Each of them had their own room, where their bags had been previously deposited after the flight, complete with a personal bathroom and television. Sophie, Wales, Klaus and Julian already had their own assigned rooms, of course, but the others required escorts as to not get lost in the complex halls of the Konzern household.

Masamune literally screamed when he saw his bedroom, though the others' reactions were much more mature and dignified. After seeing the fancy exterior, nothing inside could surprise them. About the Konzern household. "Lunch and dinner start at assigned times," Julian growled as they all split up, "but they're open until everyone's eaten, except for breakfast." He shot a meaningful glare in Masamune's direction, who gave a clueless shrug and a pitiful whimper. "I know some of you like to sleep in."

"Couch potato," MeiMei chuckled under her breath, but it was clearly audible in the silence in between Julian's words, making everyone laugh.

"If you need anything, just ask one of the workers," Wales told them, throwing his auburn locks to the side, away from his face.

"Workers?" Masamune glanced around. "You mean like the butlers and the maids, and serv-"

"I prefer not to use that terminology," Julian cut in coldly. "They are all well-paid workers, just as any other, and not anyone can treat them as they please." He glared around the small group, as if threatening them all should they abuse his employees.

No one dared argue, though. Not even Masamune over the breakfast schedule. For, although they might have defeated him in a bey battle a handful of years ago, Julian was a Konzern, and that meant he won everything, from the hugest corporate debate to the tiniest argument over his servants and breakfast. Especially not when it meant messing with his household rule.

* * *

Madouka was glad for the opportunity to finally settle down and change out of her splattered outfit. She switched it for a white blouse, black pleated skirt, and a brown jacket.

As she walked out of the bathroom, tossing her dirty clothes in a nearby laundry hamper, she jumped upon seeing Ginga, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Ginga!" She exclaimed, dropping all the things she was carrying. "What's wrong?"

"Oh...well..." He looked strangely sheepish. "I was just wondering, if you managed to get that stain off your dress."

Madouka practically tripped over herself to reassure him. "Oh, Ginga, don't worry about it! The fabric was always too light, anyways. And that was Masamune's fault."

"Yeah..." The redhead still didn't sound entirely convinced. "Are you sure you don't want me to buy you a new one?"

Madouka gave him a warm smile. "Totally. Don't sweat it."

Even then, Ginga hesitated. At first the gesture had been sweet, but now it was really starting to get on Madouka's nerves, since he wouldn't let the subject drop already. Even so, his next question surprised her. "That dress meant a lot to you, though...wasn't it the one you got for Christmas?"

Madouka was surprised he'd even remembered; that had been at least a couple of years ago. Somewhat stunned, she slowly nodded. "Well...yes, but you still don't have to pay for it, Ginga."

"Alright." The redhead finally relaxed, and Madouka let out a relieved sigh. He gave one last smile and waved before he headed for the doorway.

"Are you sure there's no way for me to make up for it, Madouka?"

She paused at Ginga's question. "Actually..." A mischievous grin flickered in her eyes. "If you can help me guilt that cheap ass Masamune into paying for the dress, I wouldn't mind."

Ginga bowed and saluted her, a silly grin on his face. "Will do, ma'am."

She giggled as he left.


	3. Herbs

**Chapter 3**

The bell rang, a sharp electronic blast whose signal was music to students' ears. "Alright kiddies!" The gym teacher bellowed, a buff though well-aged man with a smooth, shaved head and silver hairs in his dark beard. "Time for y'all to get dressed and go!"

As the students scrambled to the doorway, they paused, out of courtesy, to let through a pair of adults wearing visitor's passes first. The moment the strangers had gone through, however, the children unhesitatingly spilled into the hallway, like water bursting from a dam, chaotic and plentiful.

"Hey, coach!" The older man looked up from a sack of dodgeballs at the greeting, and his face spilt into a wide though uncertain grin.

"Masamune?" He stood, wiping his forehead as he stared in disbelief. "Is it really you?"

"The one and only, Coach Steels!" He raised his fist for a fist bump, to which the coach happily obliged, chuckling.

"Can't ever forget my biggest troublemaker! The moment I took eyes off you...ya flew away to Japan!" The coach joked.

Masamune blushed, scratching his head in embarrassment. "Yeah, well... Come on, coach! Look at what I got to do!"

"Yeah, yeah." Coach Steels folded his arms with a soft sigh. "I remember. We recorded all those broadcasts...you fighting, and knowing that you came from under my wing, well...let's just say an old man couldn't be prouder of his son."

"Aw, coach!"

"Anyways!" Coach Steels snapped from his nostalgic trance quickly enough, casting a sharp glance at the other red-haired visitor, who smiled politely. "Who've we got here?"

Masamune jumped to reply. "Oh! Don't you remember? This is Ginga Hagane, my friend from the World Champs."

The coach gave a low whistle. "You plannin' on bringing every beyblade legend in the world to New York? I oughta get me some autographs!" Ginga shook the coach's hand, whose grip was surprisingly light for a man his size. "He might already have," he said with a sly smile.

Masamune nodded, bouncing on his toes. "Right! We're all staying at Julian Konzern's place, since- oh, I don't know if you've heard, but the WBBA headquarters are moving to New York- since he's got a mansion out here, go figure. Anyway, Tsubasa- you remember my friend from the World Championships, right?- he's the new president of the WBBA!"

The coach's second whistle was long and low.

"I know, right? So anyway, he's moving to America from Japan, so we figured we could help him move in, right? But since he's moving to New York, specifically, I could visit you and Zeo and Toby! Speaking of Toby, how is he, anyway?"

In the very moment the mention of Zeo and Toby came up, the coach's face fell. "Zeo...he doesn't come here anymore."

"Really?"

Masamune's face was blank with surprise, making the coach snort. "Of course! It's an elementary school, and you three kids were all in your last year before you left! But anyway, what I mean by that is he stopped visiting."

"Oh." Masamune seemed crestfallen at first, but brightened back up like a switched light. "Then, how's Toby? He's gotta be better, right?"

The coach's gaze grew sad and distant. "See, Masamune, I wouldn't tell you this, but you're old enough to handle it now... But, last I heard... Toby was basically dyin'."

"What?" The grin froze on Masamune's face and melted down into horror. "I didn't realize it was that serious!"

The coach's nostrils flared. "Of course it was! He collapsed on the sidewalk, it's not gonna be a minor thing!" His expression quickly relaxed, though. "Masamune Kadoya. You really haven't changed in all these years, have ya."

"Nope," Ginga responded as cheerily as he could with the cloud of grim news still hanging over his head. "Still annoying and clueless to the very end."

The coach chuckled. "I thought so." Seeing Masamune's still-disappointed expression, they reassumed a more serious tone. "Relax. I don't know where Zeo took him, or how he did it, but I met him one day on the street, and he just told me he took Toby to a better hospital."

"Really?" Masamune looked surprised. "How did he get the money for it? The two of us could hardly help support the bill for the local hospital by ourselves!"

Coach Steels shrugged. "Doesn't matter, if Toby's okay." His tone turned playful again. "I must admit, though, that was a pretty stupid move...what were you thinking, flying off to Japan when your friend was sick? Then you never came back or contacted us!"

Masamune gave the same sheepish grin he'd struck at the party. "I got caught up in the excitement, is all...

The coach sighed. "Sorry I can't help you more. But I've got some tests to mark, so unless you boys wanna help me..."

Masamune looked like he was about to eagerly agree, but Ginga nudged him. "Hey. Don't forget we still have to meet the others for dinner."

"Oh yeah." Masamune slouched and pouted at first, but then straightened up immediately. "Food!"

The coach chuckled, dragging the bag of dodgeballs to the side. "Like I thought. Haven't changed a bit." Pausing, he fished a slip of paper from his pocket, scribbled something on it in pen, then passed it to Masamune. "Here. This is the number for Toby's old doctor. You could try calling and asking him."

"Okay." Masamune seemed genuinely pleased with this solution, clutching the piece of paper like a shard of gold. "Thanks, coach."

* * *

Since they'd flown in a few days ago, the main objective so far had been to help Tsubasa in move in. He'd hired a few movers to help, but his friends were all more than willing to assist.

In the end, the people to join him in America were Julian, Wales, Sophie, Klaus, Madouka, Ginga, Masamune, Hikaru, and, surprisingly enough, MeiMei. Kenta and Yu, stuck in school, were unable to join in. Benkei, excusing himself with the pricey cost of a flight to America, also stayed behind, though everyone suspected he was doing it for the two boys.

Sophie and Wales were surprisingly helpful when it came to helping Tsubasa move in. Ginga, Madouka and Hikaru pitched in where they could, and of course Klaus was more helpful than all of them combined. Most of the time, Julian, Hikaru, and Tsubasa were each busy with their separate company work. Masamune joined in, though not as often as the rest of them. It was clear his heart and mind were set on seeking out his two friends, but it was something the others couldn't sympathize with very well. "You did leave them behind in America," Wales pointed out every time Masamune heaved a sigh.

But spiting all of Masamune's efforts, one simple internet search was all it took to find Zeo.

Masamune had returned, looking depressed, from a phone call. "The doctor?" Ginga inquired, seeing him. He was sitting on the couch next to Madouka, who was typing away at full speed on her laptop. Masamune flopped onto the couch next to them. "No use," he groaned. "He was a kid's doctor, and Toby stopped going to him soon after he got sick."

"Masamune," Ginga said quietly. "You don't think that Toby might be..." All he received was a sharp glare.

Madouka sighed deeply, exasperated. "Alright. Last thing I need is you two squabbling while I'm trying to do work." She ignored Masamune's squawk of protest. "We weren't-"

"Tell me your friend's full name, the one that wasn't sick."

Masamune sighed. "Zeo Abyss."

Madouka's fingers chipped at the keys, then she turned the screen for them to see. "Found him," she chirped.

Masamune leaped from the couch and scrambled over. "What? How? Where?"

Madouka rolled her eyes. "Duh. Facebook. Zeo Abyss isn't exactly a common name." She pointed to the picture. "Is this him?"

The profile picture was of a young man who looked about sixteen years old, with crystal blue eyes and long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and the ends of his hair were bleached blond.

"Huh." Ginga frowned. "This must be an old picture. He's supposed to he about twenty, isn't he?"

"Yeah, he was my age," Masamune noted with a similar frown.

Madouka scrolled down the page. "It doesn't look like he's been on the site for a while," she observed. "All these pictures look pretty old to me."

A whistle behind them made them all jump. "Who's the boy?" MeiMei crowed. "He looks pretty hot!" She cast a mischievous grin at Madouka. "Ooh, you aren't stalking a younger boy, are you?"

"No!" Madouka's face was red. "This is Zeo!" She cast a doubtful look at the screen. "He's supposed to be twenty, but this is just his Facebook profile..."

MeiMei yawned. "I never get why people find the Internet so fun."

Madouka shrugged; this was an argument she'd grown well used to since MeiMei moved in. "Well, there's websites and games and stuff that people find interesting...it kind of depends on the person, is all."

"At Bey Lin Temple," MeiMei grumbled, "we didn't need this kind of silly electronic entertainment."

"You people at Bey Lin Temple spent all your time training," Ginga pointed out.

Masamune stared intently at the screen, ignoring them. "What's the address?"

Madouka scrolled back up and highlighted the answer. "Here's an address, but I don't know if it's old..."

"Thank you! Yes! Blessed!" Masamune jumped to his feet and started punching the air in celebration. "I'll visit him, first thing in the morning!"

"Patience!" Ginga exclaimed in mock surprise. "That's a shocking trait to see in you."

MeiMei giggled. "Oh, Ginga. He's just nervous about meeting his friend again!" She leaned on the armrest and stared at the screen admiringly. "I would be, too..." Laughing, Madouka elbowed her. "Take a picture, then; I'm about to close the window. Unless you don't have camera."

MeiMei cast a wistful glance at the screen. "You know, Madouka, I think I'm really starting to accept that technology has its benefits..."

With a giggle, Madouka closed the window and resumed her work, still chuckling at MeiMei's groan of dismay.

* * *

Guns. Dust. Blood. That was as much as the eye could see.

"Move, move!" A man ordered, gesturing toward his squad. Shuffling into place, the armed group of men began to advance on their targets. Those they were shooting at were hardly sitting ducks, but at this point a head-on assault had been their only option.

* * *

A young man muttered in his sleep as half-familiar faces flashed in his mind's eye. Outside the open window, cars honked and lights flashed, fortifying evidence of New York's claim as "the city that never sleeps".

Sheets tangled around his thrashing legs, but in his dream they were thousands of times heavier; his feet were trapped in the rubble.

His nails scrabbled uselessly against the stone as bullets whizzed all around him.

"Kyoya!" A young man with olive skin and dark, bushy hair dashed towards him, easily evading the small projectiles whose movements only he could detect and predict.

"Get back, Demure!" He snapped back hoarsely, struggling to release himself. He was ant about to let the African grasslander die for his worthless hide. it was clear their loyalties were still set on bonds from long ago, still thinking him as their leader and loyalty.

But in this dream, the African hesitated and listened. He skidded to a stop; his eyes widened and he ran. Darkness suddenly washed over the lone soldier trapped in the rubble.

Several years ago, he would have rolled his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. Now, it struck as a cold, fearful reminder that made him shiver.

The silver barrel was pressed to his throat. "Answers. Now. Will have them." the accent was thick and sounded Arabic or Indian. "Or companion dies." A long, bony finger stretched towards a figure, with a hood over their head. when it was removed, it revealed nothing more than his own reflection.

They awoke in cold sweat with a gasp.

Their hands shook, signs of their continuing fear. He had left the country long ago, deemed psychologically unstable and unable to continue his service, but the country hadn't left him; memories were still locked in his mind, forever and ever.

War followed a victim everywhere they went. Every death, every bullet, every seeth of pain was clever engraved in his mind like a stone.

Shuffling from the sheets, he stood and walked two wards the open window, watching crowds of people flood from building to building, and across the street. New York was not his ideal resting environment, but with the current circumstances, he didn't have a choice.

He turned and glanced down at the clock, muscles rippling in the faint silver light cast by the moon. the digital display read 4:00. With a sigh, he ruffled his messy green mane of hair and dropped back down on his bed again. Just as quickly, though, he stood back up again and paced the corners of his bedroom.

He gave another curious glance towards the clock. Only 4:02. Barely two minutes had passed.

Oh well. Perhaps he'd go see how his roommate was doing. They didn't sleep well, either, since their own incident the month before. If not, then the TV would simply have to wake his friend for him.

* * *

Zeo's family had moved soon after Masamune left for Japan, he soon discovered on his Facebook account. As far as he knew, the guy might've left and stopped living with his parents, or maybe gone elsewhere to university, but he doubted it. Zeo's family had never been able to spend money freely. Finance was always an issue, but it hadn't been a complete strain, or flushed them down the toilet, either. They managed to spare enough for Toby, after all.

Standing at the front porch, Masamune took a few deep breaths. Behind him Klaus and Madouka, who he couldn't help but note was an odd combination, were nevertheless encouraging.

"That's right: deep breaths," Klaus recommended.

"Don't freak out, he's your friend."

Masamune turned around and put up his most reassuring grin, which wasn't at all convincing. "Relax. I'm not scared, it's just... I'm so excited! I finally get to see Zeo again! This is great!"

Madouka and Klaus were kind enough not to comment otherwise. "I'm sure," Madouka agreed awkwardly. "Um... Ring the doorbell already."

Masamune's finger hovered over the button uncertainly. He followed Klaus's advice: deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out.

"Or wait for him to come out," she muttered darkly.

Klaus perked. "Oh. I think I hear someone coming."

* * *

Zeo grabbed his keys and stuffed them in his pocket. He checked his bag one more time to ensure he had everything: textbooks and homework, a pen, pencil, paper, notes, his lunch. He wanted to stay with Toby at the hospital, but his schoolwork was a priority as well.

Yeah, he was already ensured a spot in HD Academy, so he didn't have to work so hard, but good work habits never hurt, right?

He checked his watch. The tiny, digital display read 9:30. Hospital hours were extended on Saturdays, so he'd have plenty of time to kill. Grabbing his bike from where it stood against the wall, he made his way to the door, fumbling with keys. His parents were upstairs, but the knew he always visited Toby on the weekends...

A voice made him pause. He could swear he heard someone talking, but now he heard nothing but silence. He listened again.

Nothing.

A cold shiver suddenly ran down his spine. 'Symptoms?'

No, that couldn't be it. He'd simply imagined it, was all.

Ignoring the nagging voice of uncertainty in his head, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Only to come face-to-face with one of his unfortunate daily nightmares. A day and a face he thought would never come.

"Zeo!"


	4. Stress

**Chapter 4**

**I would like to welcome a new follower to this fanfic...**

**Bristleclaw!**

**Nice pen name, BTW. **

**This chapter is dedicated to Chidsengan and GoldenAngel999! Next one is for you, Bristleclaw, and anyone else who follows/favourites/reviews or makes themselves known.)**

**And special thanks to my sister 57R4NG3 N07H1NG for helping me with my editing! If you guys want to leave ANY suggestions, feel free to do so.**

* * *

Zeo could only stand where was, slack-jawed and frozen with his hand still on the door. 'Masa...mune?'

He must have grown a foot taller, at least, but he was still well under Zeo's height. His spiky black hair had grown wilder and more dishevelled than he had seen it last, and it fell over his forehead in long, messy strokes.

His face lit with surprise, then joy when he saw the American standing at the doorway. "Hey! Zeo!" He flew at the American, crushing him in a bear hug with the grip of steel.

It was like the airport all over again. Millions of words expressing his hatred flowed through his mind, but he couldn't force himself to choke out even one. Instead, his throat made all sorts of unique noises as he tried to make it function again. Additionally, if not for the scary-looking muscleman behind his ex-friend, Zeo was pretty sure he would have smacked Kadoya right there and then.

A polite-looking girl with short dusky brown hair and vibrant blue eyes was glaring at the long-gone blader, as if he'd done something extremely rude. The bodyguard (as Zeo had decided to nickname him) took a false interest in his well-polished leather shoes.

Masamune dropped back and scratched his head awkwardly, talking so fast his words were a blur. "Yeah, sorry, I know it's been a really long time, but we searched you up, and I just had to see you! Uh, you remember me, right? Masamune Kadoya! From elementary school! Dungeon High? Number one?" He held up his index finger and waved it in front of Zeo's stunned face, seeming completely oblivious to his shock.

"I didn't have your new number, so I figured I should just drop by, right?" He laughed heartily. "I know, I know! Classic Kadoya! But anyways, I was gonna visit Toby except you moved him to a new hospital, and were acting all 'secretive' about it- I asked Coach Steels in case you're wondering- so that kind of screwed with my plans." His face fell, growing serious again. "How is Toby? He's not dying, is he? I hope he's feeling better. Can you tell me which hospital he's at, Zeo?"

'Toby.' The thought of his ill friend seemed to shock Zeo back into concentration, and his hatred flared up again. Slamming back into focus, something angry and resentful inside him snapped. Who did Masamune think he was to waltz in here and demand where Toby was? And- what the hell- he didn't even sound the least bit concerned for his state. Seven long years, and he wanted Zeo to kiss his feet or something. No way in hell.

His immediate reaction was to slam the door shut in Masamune's face and lock it. "Zeo! - what the - that was weird," he heard the idiot's cry dissolve to mutters from behind the door.

For a minute, Zeo stood where he was, breathing hard, while he processed what had just happened. Masamune had returned to America. Somehow, he found out where Zeo lived, even though his family moved to a new house not long after Masamune disappeared to Japan. And now he wanted to know where Toby was. Oh gosh, he had to get out of here.

'No way in hell.' For the third or something time that day, the stubborn thought ran through Zeo's head. 'Over my dead body is he going to get to that hospital!'

Hauling his bike along, he shuffled down the hallway and ran to the back door. If he went out the back, he could escape through the alleyway and still make it to the hospital.

Quietly and stealthily as possible, he crept down the steps and ran into the alley, bike in tow. Unfortunately, it seemed Masamune had anticipated this.

"Zeo!" The shout made him spin around. Masamune was running towards him at full speed, arms pumping as he dashed madly to his friend.

Wasting no time, he took a running start, then hopped on his bike and pedalled away furiously. "Wait- Zeo! ZEO!" Ignoring Masamune's desperate cries, Zeo sped out onto the road and biked as fast as he could away from his old friend. From his old memories. From the object of his hatred.

* * *

"ZEO!"

Sympathy cracked Madouka's heart as she watched Masamune chase after his childhood friend. 'What happened...'

Part of her was confused. Why did Masamune's supposed 'best buddy' bolt so suddenly? Why was he so eager to escape them? She shot a curious glance towards Klaus, who shrugged and trotted back towards the the front porch. Sighing, Madouka followed where she had seen Masamune disappear last.

Something about Klaus was unsettling to her; his broad, muscular figure or maybe the fact that he was pretty much ten years older than her. But either way, she understood the close relationship to Masamune that he shared. Klaus was like a second Coach Steels to him, she would say if asked to describe his relationship with Masamune.

Masamune stood in the alley, looking sad and lost. He stared longingly at the street, where cars raced back and forth. "Zeo... I don't get it..." He murmured as Madouka approached.

The other part of Madouka, the more observant and apathetic, had already deduced the situation. It seemed clear to this more logical, calculative side of her that Zeo Abyss was holding a bit more against Masamune than sadness for his departure years ago. But how would she tell that to Masamune? He would never accept it. He might be almost twenty or something, but he still was as naive as a child half his age.

Unsure how to react, Madouka put a hand on his shoulder. "You tried."

Masamune shook his head dejectedly. "I don't understand..." He spun around, crestfallen, and trudged back towards the house.

Klaus brought the torchlight to their gloom and doom. He held out a slip of paper for Masamune to see, whose eyebrows knitted together as he read it. "What is this...?" He took it in his hands, peering at the words.

"The address of Toby's hospital," Klaus rumbled, his voice deep and calming. "Your friend's parents came out, wondering what all the shouting was about. They gave that to me after I explained we wanted to find where Toby was."

Masamune's face glowed like a halo wrapped in a shining aura of light. "Klaus, you are my saviour!" He wrapped the older man in a hug greater than the one he had given Zeo, but Klaus didn't seem very surprised by his reaction.

"His parents are still waiting there," Klaus continued. "They want to know if you'd like to come inside."

Madouka shook her head. "No thanks," she murmured. She didn't have the energy today. Call her lazy, but it'd been ages since she walked so far. Her eyes drooped from the early rise Masamune had demanded if them. Her feet hurt from running back and forth trying to catch the right train, and then the chase down the alley. All she wanted was to take a dip in Konzern's heated pool.

But Masamune shook his head at her response. "No," he decided, "I'll go in. If you two can find your way back on your own..."

"Are you sure?" Klaus asked gently, with more patience and warmth than Madouka could ever reserve for Masamune.

He nodded. "Yeah. I...want to..." His voice cracked. "I want to see Zeo's room."

Nodding with understanding, Madouka and Klaus both turned and headed for the subway.

Madouka's mind raced as she considered the odds.

Zeo and Masamune, according to their wild, childish pal, were extremely close as friends. How did their relationship become so strained? Shaking her head as they approached the bus stop, Klaus's voice startled her from thought.

"What are you thinking about?"

Hesitant, unwilling to admit it, and discomforted by the ease with which he read her emotions, she had to consider her choice of words before responding. "I'm just not sure... if I'm right in thinking that Zeo might be angry with Masamune."

"Because they were such close friends, correct?" Madouka nodded. Klaus sighed, shoving his large hands in the deep pockets of his jacket. "I think that Masamune's description of his departure may have...confused us a bit."

Madouka perked with curiosity. "Oh?"

The European's expression was grim. "As we know, Masamune has a tendency to...rush into things. Too rash and headstrong. His leaving may not have been a well-needed and planned-out trip of achievement, but more like a..."

"...hasty decision," Madouka finished, sensing Klaus's awkward search for proper wording. She sympathized; English wasn't always her strong suit.

"A little like that," he agreed. "When I asked him to tell me more about it, the way he put it sounded as if he simply ran off upon discovering that Ginga was named as 'the strongest blader'. And remember, he's hardly an observant person. I'm beginning to wonder if his friend's condition was more serious than he thought at the time. If he left when it was most critical for him to have stayed, then it certainly would explain Zeo's anger. After all, he doesn't typically..."

"...Think things through," she finished once more, surprised by Klaus's observant analysis, his deep thought, and the fact that she was talking with him.

They were quiet as cars raced by, with still no sign of a bus anywhere close.

"You don't think that Toby is..." Madouka's question was left both unfinished and unanswered, but she decided it was better to leave it that way for now: she didn't want to think about it, anyway.

* * *

Masamune's steps felt heavy as he trekked up the stairs. 'Zeo...' He remembered the livid look on his friend's face, engulfed with resentment and fury. Was his friend angry about being forgotten? He hadn't meant to stay for so long...

Whatever the case, seven years was seven years. Some things were best left unresolved, his exhausted mind argued.

'No.' Yet again, he changed his mind. Seven years lasted a second amongst true friends, and if he, Toby and Zeo hadn't been true friends, he wasn't sure what they were back then.

He gazed around at Zeo's room, cramped and tiny. Dark blue paint was chipped in the walls. A tall bed with metal posts almost touched the ceiling, and a small couch lay underneath it. A desk sat under the window, with pens, pencils, erasers, sharpeners and shavings sitting beneath a desk lamp. Two picture frames sat on the desk. One was a photo of Zeo from when he was much younger, sitting on an elderly man's knee. The other one was of a grinning Toby.

'I wonder if there's something seriously wrong with Toby...'

Masamune realized, with a pang of sadness, that he recognized the picture. It was the day they won their first bey battle with bladers outside of the Dungeon Team as a group. However, both Masamune and Zeo had been cut out of the picture so that only Toby was left.

"Toby..." He murmured to himself, turning the frame around and around in his hands. "Is that all who you have left, Zeo? Am I really..." He couldn't bring himself to say the word 'forgotten', because it was the truth, and the truth was too hard to face, sometimes.

Tears threatened Masamune's eyes, but for a change, he refused to wipe them away. Masamune wasn't dumb. Even if Madouka and Klaus wouldn't voice the truth with him around, he could tell, from the look on Zeo's face, that something had changed between them. He had terribly misunderstood the emotions that had passed between them when he'd left for Japan, and worse, he'd also in turn forgotten about the friends he'd left in America.

Fate was a cruel object.

Masamune found himself feeling something terrible; something, he realized, he shouldn't feel and wouldn't if he had only gone back to his friends: homesickness.

This couldn't be. This. Could not. Be.

Impossible! His could he feel any nostalgia for Japan, when America had always and would forever be his home? The depression was a symbol of the betrayal that Zeo had pinned him with; proof that was lining up to mark him guilty.

But he wasn't. That was where the evidence turned against him. It wasn't his fault; Zeo's rage, and Toby's sickness.

He sank into the chair in front of the desk and hung his head in his hands. Was there any way to fix this? Would he ever see Toby again? His heart skipped a best as he realized something. If Toby was at the hospital...he was still alive... Masamune could still apologize!

Masamune didn't have a choice. He had to see his friend, and know if he was okay. He ran downstairs, thanking Zeo's parents hurriedly, and hopped on the first bus home, to Konzern mansion. Home, because this was America, and this was where he was meant to be, alongside his two friends.

He was gonna see Toby, no matter what Zeo said. And he had to discover why his friend was angry with him.

All the words and apologies ran through his head. "I'm sorry Zeo, I didn't know Toby was so sick..."

"I didn't mean to stay for so long..."

"All I wanted was to complete our dream..."

* * *

It was a rare instance in which Julian Konzern had free time. He spent that time swimming in the heated pool, relaxing after a long day at work.

As he climbed out, water cascaded from his long, golden hair. He dried himself off using a soft scarlet towel provided by a butler, then once dry, he marched into the common area, on the way to his personal chambers.

Inside, Sophie was sitting on a white ottoman, reading a book. Her pale blue curls were twisted into a beautiful braid. As usual nowadays, Julian lost his breath at the very sight of her.

Her sea-green eyes flickered across the pages of literature she was so engrossed in. Only when he stopped before her to read the title of the book she was reading did she notice him, look up, and smile.

"Julian. How was your swim?"

He simply loved her accent. Normally, he might find them bothersome or dismissable, but none of Sophie's adorable quirks could ever go unnoticed with him. "Fine, thank you," he responded, wiping a stray drop of water from his brow. "Just what I needed after a day at the office."

Giving a small groan, Sophie stood, walked over, and began massaging his shoulders with a smile as sweet as silk. "You work too much," she complained. "I understand there's no helping it - but, it is a fact." Julian couldn't help but agree.

Sophie's hands were soft, and she smelled sweet - lavender, perhaps. Maybe a touch of something minty. Julian loved those incenses, since they proved to do exceptionally well at calming him down. He almost blushed at realizing she was standing so close, but forced himself to push the feelings back down. They hadn't quite reached that proximity in their relationship- at least not on Sophie's part, as far as he knew - but even so, Julian knew it would only be a matter of time before he had to confess his feelings to her, as he had already done to himself.

When had the infatuation started? His best guess was three months ago, when they'd gone for a nice vacation in Panama, South America. It had just been Julian and Sophie alone at the time; Klaus was in Greece and at the time Wales was busy at the post office.

Eating breakfast so late in the day was unusual for Julian, but not a bad idea. They'd been having such a pleasant conversation, eating from the same bowl of cereal when their spoons clinked and Sophie teased him about flirting with her. Though Julian had laughed at the time, their hands brushed soon afterwards, and suddenly Julian felt very hot. It was as if patches of warmth were spreading on his chest, cheeks, and hands, and growing quickly uncomfortable. Quickly excusing himself, Julian later found in the restroom that a painted red blush had spread on his face. His head was light, and his hand glowed with warmth where Sophie had touched it.

Since then, he'd noticed so much more about her. The accent. How she wore her hair in different styles on certain days of the week. What jokes she laughed at. What made her smile or shed a tear.

"Julian?" Concern tinged Sophie's tone. "Is something wrong?"

Julian shook his head loose of those thoughts. "No, not at all," he replied smoothly. "Just thinking."

Of course, these pleasant observations had come with a price. He found himself less hidden; his feelings seemed more exposed around her. At work, he found himself distracted when lost in thoughts about Sophie. Jealousy sprouted inside him whenever he saw her talking to Wales or laughing at something Klaus said.

Poor Wales.

When it came to love, his best friend had become Julian Konzern's greatest obstacle. Even in Team Excalibur, Sophie and Wales had always been glued to the hip. They never went anywhere without the other, and always battled together. Closer than siblings, Sophie would almost never leave Wales's side if she could.

Julian hated to think so badly of his blue-eyed friend, but somehow his affection had taken control over all his emotions.

Sophie's hands stopped, and she craned her neck to smile warmly at him. "I hope that helped," she whispered with a small wink.

Julian turned, feeling his cheeks starting to glow. "Oh yes, thank you. More than you know." There were other things amongst it that would have made his life, perhaps, but now was not the time. Julian Konzern was a business man, and first his business had to be resolved.

* * *

Toby opened his eyes as the door flew open. He blinked in surprise as Zeo dropped all his things on the floor and looked around wildly. "Water?" He demanded.

Toby pointed to the nightstand, where sat a glass and a jug of water. Zeo poured himself a glass and then staggered to the bathroom, dragging his bag with him. Toby heard the sound of a container popping open, and his friend's frantic gulps as he drank deeply.

"What's wrong?" He asked when Zeo returned, looking refreshed.

"Nothing," his friend assured him with a slight wince, sitting down on the stool at his bedside and rubbing his temples. "Just a headache."

Toby's expression softened. "You shouldn't have come," he told him. "You've got homework, and you'd be better off relaxing at home."

Zeo's face was pale when he smiled. "I brought my school stuff with me. And trust me, I can't relax at home right now. I'll explain later, but it's just...complicated."

Toby gave up on questioning him any further. Since his treatment, it seemed impossible to get Zeo to tell him anything, even though they were such tight friends. Back then, he could read anything on Zeo's face. Now, it was like every day he saw him, Zeo Abyss was a different person. "There's something bothering you," he decided, "but I won't make you tell me. Can I just ask if it should be my concern?"

Zeo hesitated, and for a rare moment Toby could see through his gaze. "It is, isn't it."

His friend's smile was exhausted. "Please don't ask any further, really. I promise I'll explain it later."

"Of course." Toby shrugged and leaned back in his bed, closing his eyes. Whatever was bothering his friend, he knew he'd find out eventually. Besides, of Zeo found it easier to deal with by hiding it than not, Toby would gladly comply, for the sake of his friend's good health. With a relieved sigh, Zeo pulled out his books and set to work.

"Has the doctor set up a date for the last operation yet?" Zeo asked quietly, pausing. Toby answered without opening his eyes. "Twenty-first of May. Then I'll be out of this place once I recover."

"Oh, okay." Though his answer was simple, there was no disguising the joy in Zeo's voice. "That's good, Toby. Really great." He resumed his writing, but seemed evidently distracted by the news.

The usual scribbling of pencil on paper had become a regular lullaby for Toby, and he found his mind drifting off elsewhere... Elementary school... Masamune, Toby and Zeo... Best of friends... Bound to reach the top of the world someday... Toby's collapse, seeing Masamune in TV... praying energy night for his friend's success at the World Championships, before the sickness took ahold of his life...

Seven long years, and Toby owed Zeo so much for each and every one of them. Only two years ago, in his eleventh grade, Zeo had given up on school to take care of him. He worked three jobs a week, taking night shifts and noon shifts, skipping lunch break and sleep for his friend. It had to be the worst year of Toby's life.

Winter seemed to bring a hell that was like no other, but indoors. The treatment was so painful, so difficult, filled with things he couldn't describe without almost bursting into tears, and there'd hardly been any sign of Zeo to help him pull through it with his friend so busy trying to make the money to pay for it. And when Zeo did manage to visit, rarely as he did, his appearance was tired, undone, exhausted and haggardly. Black rings around his eyes. Skin so pale, it looked like curdled milk. His hair so dishevelled it reminded Toby of his own tangled locks in a trash can.

But one day, he felt better. Still in pain, but the feeling was dulled. He'd seen bright sunshine flowing through the curtain, and Zeo smiling above him. Blond streaks in his hair and a smile on his face, tears in his shining blue eyes.

With a groan, he asked his friend if he'd died and gone to heaven. Zeo had laughed. "We did it," Zeo whispered, and Toby didn't even have to ask what he meant.

This time, the expression held no grim hope, no doubt, no trace of exhaustion, but simply

That smile had been worthwhile. That moment, and the embrace they shared afterwards.

It had been worth all the pain, the blood, the tests, the tiredness, the tears, because those had brought the smile on Toby's lips that he held while he slept. It freed him from the lurking fear of death, and the uncertainty of his survival. And soon, those efforts would release him from the hospital.

Zeo Abyss, his best friend and saviour.

Toby couldn't forget that life debt, no matter what Zeo said. From now on, he had a duty to stay by his side, forever and ever, and never let the sacrifices his friend made to go in vain. Despite the time and sacrifice, Zeo had stayed by his side. And Toby planned to do the same for him, for the rest of his life.

* * *

**Hey! Let me know what you think of this chapter, since I know it was a little long...**

**how do you guys feel about Sophie x Julian? I kind of threw it in on a whim, since this fic is kind of going to be a social drama/almoat-soap-opera kind of thing. **

**Just give me some feedback on how the story's going...or anything else. I really like fanfiction suggestions, so if you know about any really good fanfics worth checking out, I'd love to hear about them. **

**The updates should start to speed up a teensy bit because I finally have a couple of chapters organized, but they'll slow down soon enough. Haha, not to worry! ; _p_**

**Until next time, fans and friends!**


	5. Diagnosis

**Chapter 5**

**Greetings, friends and fans! I would like to welcome Lethal-Circle to this fanfic community! This chapter is artfully dedicated to you...though it's a bit short compared to the others. I'm sorry. It's March Break for me soon, so...hopefully I'm more productive then. I'M SORRY! I know I said the updates should be faster, but... : (  
I know I haven't updated in a long time, and I feel bad...so thank you for sticking with me! And thank you so very much, Lethal-Circle, for the Favourite. I really appreciate it!  
Today was PJ day at my school, so I'm just kind of sitting here on the couch in my jammies ; p**

**Some users I would like to thank:**

**Bristleclaw**

**Chidsengan**

**GoldenAngel999**

**Lethal-Circle**

**And on with the much-awaited story! : )**

* * *

Boredom was not something well-suited for Ginga.

Without Masamune around for company, he'd been left to wander the streets of New York, kicked out of the house by Madouka for his agitated fidgeting. "How do you get through a day?" She'd asked irritably.

Well, he didn't, really. These days weren't anything unusual. Even back in Japan, without a job, there hadn't been much to do. Ryo handled all of Ginga's apartment expenses, so he felt no reason or motivation to work. Tsubasa had tried, he really had, to get Ginga a job at the WBBA, but the mere idea of an office didn't click with his wild spirit. Tsubasa was different; more toned-down, mellow, and mature. He'd have no problem settling down.

And so, after the welcome parties and friendly visits had begun to die down, Ginga's life began to spiral into an unpleasant limbo of repetition.

Every day seemed to become the same, no matter what he did. It was pretty much spending his time eating, pacing, watching TV, or sleeping because there was honestly nothing better to do. If he went out with friends for an hour, it simply felt like a small, but fun patch of time cut into his day, that amounted to almost nothing at all in the end, because he'd simply gone back to doing the same thing afterwards, at home.

There was the occasional instance of grace where he'd been invited to some overnight party or an all-day event, like Yu's birthday party or that time he went with his friends in the city to the roller coaster park. But those days, once gone, only made the next one feel even worse without anything to do, because of how much fun he'd had in comparison on the previous day. Back to lying around on the couch. Throwing ping pong balls on the wall. Stuffing Cheetos in his mouth all day. Feeling too lazy to grab the phone and call someone while he was lying on the couch, and simply hope and wait for someone to call him. A few times, in moments of desperation, he'd gone out and tried to shoot Galaxy Pegasus around a little.

Admittedly, he'd even visited the bey park a couple of times.

Oh no, not the stadium. He didn't want to know, want to see what kind of terrible, monstrous transformations had taken over and ruined his career. There were still outdoor parks that had normal stadium dishes, the ones Ginga was used to. He would approach silently, watching as kids battled it out.

He would reach into his pocket, feeling Pegasus practically shivering in the anticipation of exercising its skills. He'd steady his hand around the launcher on his belt, readying himself to "let it rip" against the next opponent. Sometimes the battling kids or spectators would glance up at him curiously from time to time, wondering who he was, and whether he would challenge anyone. But somehow, Ginga never had the courage to step up to the plate, as an adult, to battle again.

So many worries and doubts always crossed his mind. What if he was so terribly out of shape, his skills were diminished to almost nothing by now? Pegasus had not been used at full power for such a long time, he even doubted whether its Starbooster attack worked anymore. Once upon a time, embarrassment wouldn't have crossed Ginga's mind. Instead, it would be overwhelmed by his undying love for beyblade, and he would fight all day if it meant getting stronger, no matter how many times he lost. But, he soon realized, however sad it was, that was still all the way back in the days which he'd been a child. He was an adult now, with insecurities and spiked emotions and real-world problems. Beyblade was a kid's game, and could no longer provide the entertainment for him that it once did. There some terrible magic that had gripped Ginga by growing up. He almost wished he could be a kid again, to the days when the problems and answers were all so simple.

Kenta had always expressed his enthusiasm to grow up around Ginga. That he couldn't wait for school to he over; to be an adult, to work and fool around with total freedom. Maybe that was Ginga's problem. Too much freedom, giving him the grant to sulk and mope and sleep and laze around the house all day. He should get a job, or do matter how many times those thoughts flew in his head, he simply never got around to doing it, no matter how much time he had on his hands for it.

Something caught his eye, just at the edge of his vision. He backtracked slightly, trailing his steps all the way back to a dress store. On one of the mannequins in the window, there was a shiny white dress with a gold neckline and a ruffled hem. The image didn't take long to click in Ginga's mind.

This was Madouka's dress! It was the exact same one that Masamune had spilled Coke on in the plane, in America.

Hurriedly, he rushed into the store and quickly ordered the dress, almost immediately paranoid that fate had set some kind of trap for him, and the dress would be out of stock or something.

The woman taking his order turned to him with a smile, pushing dyed red hair aside with a heavily jewelled finger. "What size do you need?" She chirped.

_Uh...Crap. _

He cringed. Ginga hadn't been expecting that kind of obstacle.

He gave the most reassured smile he could muster, with a polite "excuse me for just a minute," before turning around and whipping out his phone. He phrased his text in the most casual way possible to Madouka:

**G: What size ru? **

He turned back, to where the store helper was waiting patiently. "Um..." He rocked back and forth nervously. "Do you mind if I just look around a bit first?"

Thankfully, she smiled brightly, looking completely unbothered. "Of course not! Suit yourself, please, sir. Your satisfaction is priority." She said the last sentence very seriously, as if stating admission or a penalizing law. "Uh... Thanks, he said, and quickly darted out of the way.

He paced the store for ten minutes, awaiting an answer, but Madouka will wasn't responding. Jeez, did she want this dress or not? Well, it was a surprise, in a way, but still, she couldn't possibly have better things to do.

Even so, she didn't look like a likely replier anytime soon, so he gave up and turned desperately to who he knew to he a reliable colleague: Tsubasa. Of course, the likelihood was that if Madouka wasn't answering her phone, as inactive as she was, there was no way Tsubasa would pick up his. The eagle blader hardly used one, and he even had two of them, one for business and one for personal contacts. Not just that, but he was supposedly working at the speed of light at the WBBA office, and would likely have no time to answer. However, he was on his last legs here, and a step away from either calling Madouka, or calling MeiMei or someone else at Konzern mansion to raid Madouka's closet and tell him. Taking a deep breath, he quickly typed into his keypad:

**G: Shopping 4 dress 4 MD. What size? **

Tsubasa, shockingly enough, replied within seconds.

**T: Same one? **

**G: Same one. **

Tsubasa sent him all the information he needed, and Ginga ran up to the counter, phone in hand. "Um...hi? I'd just like the same model, please." The girl nodded and brought him the requested item.

Rushing somewhat, out of pure excitement, he swiped his credit card, took the dress packaged in a silver shopping bag, and raced for the subway to head back to the mansion.

Twenty minutes later, he passed through the garden gates and reached into his pocket - realizing too late he'd forgotten to being a key with him.

Sighing, he rang the doorbell. He really hoped Masamune wasn't home, because the guy would laugh his ass off and blurt it out to everyone he knew, and then Ginga would be forced to kill him. But, no. To his luck, it happened to he Madouka who answered the door - and immediately sacked him.

Ginga doubled over with a strangled yelp, hugging himself where it hurt. "Ah-hah-owwww..."

Madouka was boiling. "You complete doofus! Shitbucket! Asshole! Why would you EVER, ever, ever ask a girl about her bra size!?"

Ginga sat still in blank puzzlement. "Ooh, check it out!" MeiMei giggled. "He bought something, too..." Her voice trailed off into curiosity as she looked and reached inside. "What's this...?"

Madouka snatched the bag away and lifted out the dress inside with a gasp. "Oh - Ginga - I told you not to!" A smile broke onto her face, joy cutting off her words. Just as Ginga struggled to his feet, she flew at him, wrapping him in a humungous hug. "Oh thank you, Ginga," she sighed. He could feel a red blush growing on his face as her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.

"N-no problem," he stuttered. MeiMei was practically dying of laughter behind them, and Ginga mouthed 'Shut up!' at her, which just made her laugh even harder. Even then, however, Ginga couldn't keep the grin off his face. The fuzzy feeling in his chest wasn't just because Madouka's head was pressed against it.

She released him (sadly enough), gazing up at him through her bright, azure-blue eyes.

"Thank you so, much, Ginga, I mean, you didn't have to, but..."

Maybe what those parents and people said really was true. There really was no better reward than helping others, he thought with a sigh, as he stared into the pair of jewelled eyes before him.

MeiMei pointed at the doors with a small smirk, interrupting their moment as she spoke up. "We baked sugar cookies inside. Want some?" She cast a smug look in Ginga's direction, as if he ought to be bothered that they had done so without him. Ginga simply replied with a shrug. "Sure." He followed MeiMei and Madouka, the mechanic dragging him alongside her as she obsessed over details.

"Ohhh, I forgot to put on icing - you'll help us, though, won't you - but DON'T you dare eat it!"

* * *

"You have to let me in!" Masamune shouted, pounding his fists on the table.

"I'm sorry," the receptionist replied sternly. "You are not included on the list of guests for this young man."

"But I should be!" Masamune argued back pointlessly. "I'm his best friend."

"This is a private facility," the receptionist told him curtly, her temper obviously starting to get the best of her - then again, she'd been dealing with Masamune for the last twenty minutes, when most could only handle him for five. "Young man, you will have to contact the patient yourself and have him add you to the list of people who are allowed to see him."

"Can't you ask him?" Masamune complained with a pout. "I mean, technically, I'm a customer, and I'm the one being serviced here..." A sharp glare was enough warning to make him shut up.

Masamune jammed his hands in his pockets and paced around the waiting room. Here he was, stuck at the hospital, forbidden from seeing Toby. So close, and yet so far, huh? Apparently, Zeo must have won the lottery or something without Masamune ever noticing, because this hospital, apparently, was for rich patients and healthcare benefactors. Even by just walking through the parking lot Masamune could tell this hospital must have been loaded; not only because of the sleek builiding and modern design (which made it look more like a condo than a hospital), but also because of the cars in the lot. Mercedes, Jaguar, and even a Rolls Royce.

Oh! Oh! Not just that, but there was some fancy guest list each patient had, of people that were allowed to visit them, to ensure their complete comfort and utter privacy. And to top the treat? Masamune wasn't on Toby's, meaning he wasn't allowed inside. He'd already been here for almost an hour, pacing and waiting and arguing with this secretary to let him come inside. However, at the rate things were going, it didn't seem like that was bound to happen anytime soon.

Something buzzed in his pocket; it was his cellphone. He opened it to a text: Ginga's.

G: Where ru?

With a sigh, he checked the time and stuffed it in his pocket. Already past noon. Time flew so fast when you needed it most, and slowly when you wanted things to speed up.

'I wonder if Toby's mad at me too, for leaving him and Zeo by themselves.' The slight shadow of doubt crossed his mind, and began to wonder if he should have come at all to America in the first place. More began to race through his mind, but he pushed them to the corners of his brain. Not now. It hurt too much to think. He was starving, and now that his rage had begun to wear down to desperation, he felt exhausted. He really wanted to crash back at the mansion. Quickly, he typed a response for Ginga's text:

M: B there in 30

Casting one last wistful glance at the front desk, he jammed his hands in his pockets and glumly plodded down the street. In the back of his mind, though, he swore to himself that he would find a way inside to apologize to his friend, even if it killed him.

* * *

They were holding hands, walking down the street. Bright smiles. Glowing gazes, with a touch of affection. Dark brown hair and green eyes. Dark green hair and blue eyes. A sweet couple, most people would think. And indeed they were.

It was winter. Their breath fogged the air, and their eyelashes were coated in white by the falling flakes of snow, like the bundles of coats they were dressed in to keep warm. The young man brushed some snow off her lids and cheeks, making his girlfriend laugh. She, in turn, brushed one off his lip, and he smiled.

Before they could lean in for a kiss, the moan of brakes sounded next to them, as the bus pulled to a stop beside them. They boarded, wishing a hearty Holiday's greeting to the bus driver as they paid their fares. He, too, smiled at seeing such a heartwarming bond.

They sat at the very back, where the bus was most isolated. She sat next to the aisle, and he in the window seat. His tanned fingers were wrapped around hers, pale as the pure snow that sat outside.

"My brother should be home by now," she noted to herself. "I guess we can all have dinner tonight." She glanced towards him questioningly. "You want to make the dinner, or shall I?" Her boyfriend cleared his throat and sat up, with the posture of one making an important announcement. "Actually, Kyoya won't be joining us. I...set him up for a date tonight." A smile flickered over his face, mischief mixed with innocence, creating an unusual combination of expression.

His girlfriend gasped. "Did you..." He pressed his lips to hers, placing something delicately in her palm. "Merry Christmas," he murmured as he released her.

With a light, joyful giggle, the young woman admired the card he had placed in her hand. "You'll get the present at the restaurant," her boyfriend promised her.

"I have your gift at the apartment," she countered slyly. "So I guess when we're done...you'll have to come back and get it."

The driver gave a sudden, panicked yell and stomped on the brakes, causing the couple to freeze and look up in alarm. The few passengers on the bus all gazed about bewildered, only to be thrown back in ther seats as the bus skidded on the ice. One woman was screaming. An elderly man's cane was knocked over, and, in his desperate floundering to steady himself, the young man accidentally knocked his date in the chin.

"Sorry," he gasped, but they were interrupted at a honk. A car horn, to be precise. They both looked out the window. All they saw were bright lights, growing rapidly closer, as they raced towards them with another beep of a horn. The boyfriend was lucky. His date, not so much. The girl screamed before they were thrown back by the impact.

* * *

**All I ask is for criticism. I will not hunt you down and throw you off a plane in your sleep, I promise...unless I feel like it. Which I never do. I'm not a damn sadist.**


	6. Open Wounds

**Chapter 6**

**Hello, my friends, and welcome to the sixth chapter of Pills. Thank you for being so patient about the updates - once again, this chapter is short, but I still hope it will suffice in sating your curiosity.  
I would like to welcome Penpal678910 to this fanfic. This chapter is dedicated to you!**

**And to answer GoldenAngel999's question: the chapter names are kind of medically related, to connect to the title...but I just think of them right before I post the chapters most of the time.**

**Feeling quite mellow today, my friends, though it's probably because I'm tired. I do all my fanfic work by night... : )  
Please feel free to review. All your comments are greatly appreciated. **

**If I go a month or more without updating, _NAG ME_. This is done best in the review column.**

* * *

Everyone in the dining room gave a relieved chorus of joy as Masamune finally stepped into the dining room.

"Masamune!"

"You came!"

"Hey!"

"Hey, Masamune!" Ginga called out. "Where have you been? Your food's getting cold." A ripple of amusement passed through the group, everyone having been familiar with Masamune's binging habits.

But Masamune looked dejected, with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his feet scuffing the floor, and his eyes downcast and gloomy. The cheerful mood in the dining room turned to one of worry and inquiry. "What's wrong, Masamune?" MeiMei queried. "Is something the matter?"

As always, Madouka was the first to catch on. "Did something to wrong with Zeo and Toby?" She asked, recalling Zeo's reaction earlier in the day.

Masamune opened his mouth to reply, but a nagging thought of feeling in the back of his head stopped him. Something about their concern was stopping him, he realized. Madouka and Ginga had a tendency to be...well, overly helpful. But the moment they got involved, he knew, they would take over all his actions and try to teach him lessons through it, and constantly point out what he was doing wrong. In simpler terms, they would treat him like a child.

His eyes met the solid gaze of Klaus. _There_ was someone sturdy he could trust. But...not in front of all these people here, he decided. He didn't want more of them getting involved than the mess itself could handle.

Forcing a huge grin, he straightened up and sat down between Tsubasa and Klaus at the table - if he sat next to either Madouka or Ginga, they would just nag him all night about what was wrong. "Yeah, I'm fine!" He chuckled. "I got to talk to Toby; it was fine, really."

Madouka's brow creased, though Ginga relaxed. "But what about Zeo?" pressed the mechanic. "Why did he run away in the street?"

Masamune laughed. "He said he got freaked out because he didn't recognize me, is all. Once Toby saw me, well... I guess he made the distant connection." Everyone relaxed, even Madouka, although the bey mechanic's eyes were twitching suspiciously.

As Masamune slid into his seat, Klaus gave him a glance that no one other than Masamune could interpret as a question. He let his expression slide back into that same hopelessness he felt at the hospital, and Klaus nodded with understanding. Masamune breathed a sigh. 'Thank you.'

No one had noticed their small exchange, thankfully enough, as Tsubasa, Julian and Hikaru were sharing stories about the office, and the other three girls were gabbing away (though Madouka glanced back Masamune from time to time). Wales and Klaus kept a light but airy conversation alive between themselves, though it would die from time to time through the interruption of chewing food. Both Masamune and Ginga were left to mull over their own thoughts, scraping the food on their plates.

For a change, Masamune didn't feel like eating. He didn't feel like anything - except bad, maybe.

But he'd give up all the food in the world if it just mean that he could talk to Toby.

* * *

The lazy sleeper shuffled to the window. Sweat still shone on his neck from his previous nightmare, and his breathing was still ragged.

Breathing hard, he leaned out the wide-open window, closing his eyes and letting the rough winds and the sounds of revving engines, honking horns, and puttering cars embrace him. He was in the city, far from the bright, beating sun and the dunes of sand. No longer should the sound of ringing bullets echo through his head. Though he'd left those sensations long ago, they sure as hell hadn't left him. He didn't have to check to remember that there was still a nine-millimetre pistol tucked just under his pillow.

It was still dark outside. Grumbling to himself as he ruffled his hair, he trudged from his room, into the living room, and glanced at the couch. His roommate wasn't there, although there was a mess of blankets that showed where he'd slept the night before.

With a sigh, he walked around the couch to grab the remote on the coffee table, planning to watch some TV. The floors seemed to lightly creak with his every step, and he could even feel them shift each time his foot pressed down on one. He didn't care quite as much; it was something he'd become quite accustomed to - and perhaps fond of. After his paranoia from "involvement in international conflict", the creaky boards had become, in a way, a source of comfort.

"_OW_!"

The scream sent his nerves into hyperdrive; he jumped back and almost ran back to his room for the gun.

A hand grabbed his foot with a groan, but he didn't panic, as he already knew who it was.

"Sorry, Kyoya," his roommate groaned. "Didn't mean to - that just hurts..."

"S'okay," Kuoya mumbled back to lumpy mess of blankets on the floor. He brushed his bangs behind his head and shut his eyes, breathing hard. "Just...startled me is all."

Startled was just a slice of what he'd felt, not that he'd admit it. Not before, and not now, though there were varying reasons between the two times.

With a sigh, Kyoya stepped over his roommate, flopped on onto the couch and searched for the remote - it wasn't on the coffee table after all. After some fumbling amongst the wrinkled couch cushions, he located the remote and turned on the TV. The first channel that showed up was some kid's show he didn't completely understand; it was in English. His English was good, but not entirely fluent, like his companion.

His roommate sat up, wrapped from head to toe in worn, blue-grey blankets, fuzzy with age, as it they were some kind of religious robes. He pulled the sheets even tighter around his body as he shivered. "Switch it to the weather report. It's damn freezing in here; how're you walking around in those damn shorts?"

Kyoya tasted the air for a chill. Ah. So it was. He'd come to quite never notice anymore. But he complied with his roommate's request, flipping to the news station.

_"Today in Afghanistan-" _

Click.

_"Protestors in Ukraine-" _

Click.

_"Israeli war continues to-" _

Giving up, he turned off the damn TV and flopped to his side on the couch. His friend groaned beside him. "Did you have to give up so easily?"

"It's almost summer," Kyoya mumbled back, his voice muffled by the cushions. "It doesn't matter what you dress in, just make sure it's light." His friend sighed. "But the weather here is so unpredictable!" He complained. "I need the weather report. C'mon, Kyoya, please," he begged, shaking the green-haired veteran's shoulder.

Kyoya hid a smile by burying his face into the couch. He'd become rather accustomed to this regular nagging, enough to realize that his roommate only used it as a distraction from Kyoya's less pleasant thoughts. Of course, knowing him so well, he should have clued in that Kyoya would figure his out eventually, but not everyone was Kyoya. Their brains didn't work quite as quickly as his did. With a yawn, he sat back up. "Think I'll go visit Miju."

"Are you sure? It's still dark."

"Yeah." Kyoya rolled his neck in circles, sighing with relief as his spine cracked back into place. "If the registration lady protests, I'll show her the nice new pocketknife I bought in NY."

His roommate gave a chuckle, though somewhat nervously. "I'll come," he offered. "I won't get much done around here anyways, all by myself."

"Sure," Kyoya agreed. "Just hurry and get dressed. I'll wait by the door."

Once he'd changed into his usual drooping dark green hoodie and baggy jeans, he waited by the doorway for his roommate, whistling as he spun the keys on his finger. Sure, he knew the suspicious looks everyone cast him on the street, but in his opinion, at this hour, it was dangerous not to make oneself appear so. His roommate stepped out, but once he saw what Kyoya was wearing, ducked back back into his room and reemerged a few minutes later, dressed similarly. He gave a roguish grin. "If I have to sit next you on the bus, I'd at least better look like I fit in with you."

Kyoya grumbled. "Just because I dress sloppy doesn't mean you have come out in alley clothes." His roommate only flashed him with a playful grin, his eyes shadowed by the hood pulled over his head, before he skipped out the door tauntingly. "Very funny," Kyoya growled, but followed him with the tiniest of smiles all the same.

* * *

Sunday met Masamune like a slap in the face.

Actually, that was because Ginga hit him with a pillow.

He ran out the room cursing in agony, with Ginga in hot-pursuit, armed with a pillow. The redhead was yelling about breakfast and how he'd slept until noon yesterday and ought to wake up earlier, though Masamune was only half-listening. Fortunately for him, he wound up discovering the breakfast when he stumbled upon the dining room by accident, and saw what the others were eating (others able to take the optional luxury of sleeping in, excluding Tsubasa, Hikaru and Julian), he spent no time deciding whether or not to dig in.

Needless to say, not everyone around him was pleased he'd woken up after that scene.

Madouka tried to pressure him about the previous day's events again, but Masamune dodged all questions, insisting he was going to see them again today - or at least try to, his heart knew.

No one asked too many questions, thankfully, and he was able to leave within the hour. Before he left, though, Klaus stopped him and gave him a stern nod.

"Good luck."

Madouka had walked in the room just then, however, so Masamune could only give a small nod and a bright smile.

The hospital looked even more like an office building in full sunlight. The dark windows rippled with reflections of passing cars, as the building stood grand and tall.

Masamune entered nervously, hoping the receptionist had either taken a day off, or she would let him in.

Damn. It was the same one, the tall Brazilian woman with the short hair.

As Masamune approached the desk cautiously and hopefully, she shot him a dirty look that made his insides turn to jelly. She crossed her arms as he took another step, and removed her glasses at the third. '_God-dammit-I-can't-do-this!'_

Masamune fled from the hospital, arms flailing. With a sigh, he wandered onto the lawn and flopped to the ground. How was he ever going to see Toby at this rate? He'd called his old number, but it didn't work, as expected, and he couldn't find him in the phone book, either.

Just for the sake of being depressed, he rolled back and forth across the lawn, lying in the sweet grass. It had been warmed up by the sunlight, and felt feathery and ticklish on his skin. After a while, it was starting to make Masamune sleepy. His eyes were starting to close, and mind beginning to drift...in fact, he almost swore he could see Zeo opening one of the windows...

* * *

_Shit! _

Zeo's eyes widened as he saw who was lying down on the lawn. It was Masamune!

Without hesitation, he pulled away and pulled the curtains over to cover him, but the black-haired Japanese boy had leaped to his feet.

"...they don't really get how I'm going to continue if I haven't really learned or am gonna retain everything they give me," Toby was saying. Zeo leaned against the wall, sitting beside the window but well out of view, pretending to listen. Toby was excited about starting high school again next year, though he had tons - and quite literally, TONS of learning to catch up on.

Toby cast a warm smile over to Zeo. "Oh yeah, I've gotta thank you for letting me borrow your textbooks from the grade nine to eleven curriculum. They were really useful."

"Huh?" Zeo jumped, startled from his thoughts. "Oh, not me! Thank my school, honestly. Mr. Copland's the one who let me sign them out."

Anyone could tell Toby was excited, because he was talking loud. Really loud. Loud enough to practically make Zeo's ears ring - but he shouldn't grumble. He'd been suffering from a pretty nasty headache for the past few days. With a small groan, he rubbed his temples - only to hold back a scream at the loud blast that sounded from outside.

"TOOOOBYYYYY!"

Zeo allowed himself to push the curtains outside and peek at who was making such a ridiculous ruckus - surprise, surprise. It was Masamune.

"TOBY!" He screamed.

Zeo cast a glance in Toby's direction worriedly, but the brown-haired boy didn't seem to notice anything. Was he deaf? Or was Zeo's sense of hearing simply more acute than others? Either way, he thanked the universe for Toby's ignorance, reached out and pulled the window closed. "Sorry." He frowned at Toby when he caught the other boy staring at him. "Someone sure is making a ruckus out there. Who ever knew that such damn expensive cars could be so loud with the horns?"

Toby laughed. "I know. Just getting a parking spot's a pain in the ass around here."

Zeo did his best to laugh alongside him. "So, um, which subject's been your favourite?"

"Honestly?" Toby gave a shy smile. "It's math."

"What?" Zeo bolted forward, momentarily forgetting about Masamune in the heart of conversation. "Are you kidding? You don't know how many people flunked that shit up in my year. Isn't it impossibly hard?"

Toby stared up at the ceiling, a smile playing on his lips. "Not really..."

Zeo groaned. "Man, I wish I always had you in my math class!"

_Plunk. _

Zeo flinched at the sound, and Toby did too, but as silence stretched between them, Toby continued chattering away happily again. Meanwhile, though, Zeo snuck over to the window to investigate - though he was almost certain of the guilty party.

Masamune. And he was throwing -

_Plink!_

-rocks at the window.

_Plonk!_

_'Stop that,'_ Zeo mouthed angrily before storming away. Thankfully, Toby didn't notice as he happily continued chatting away. With each feeble click of a pebble as it struck a window, though, Zeo was tense, as he waited for Toby to notice something out of place, and see Masamune.

He couldn't let Toby see Masamune, Zeo decided firmly. That was it. Toby was still stuck in the awful illusion that they were still best friends, even after Masamune and left them both so readily to rot uselessly in America.

He glanced out the window, only to see that Masamune had completely disappeared. Only, he wasn't sure whether to be worried or finally satisfied.

* * *

"NO! You _HAVE_ to let me IN!"

Kyoya and his friend both conveniently slipped past the ruckus, where some air headed kid with a ridiculous, spiky Afro was being forcefully escorted away by a pair of security officers.

"I HAVE TO SEE TOBY!..."

Their voices drifted away as they continued down the hall, though, allowing his friend to chuckle curiously. "Wonder what that was all about."

Kyoya shrugged. "Who knows?" They turned the corner, past room 308, to continue down to room 311. They paused by the door, as eyes followed the unusual-looking pair down the hall.

Polite as ever, his companion knocked before he entered.

"Come in."

A green haired girl sat casually on a hospital bed, her arm swathed in a cast and her legs scarred. Aside from the scars, she was in much better condition than she was three months past. Her blue eyes lit with more life than pain, and the cuts on her face had almost completely disappeared. Even so, Kyoya's heart was racked with pain every time he saw the occasional and unfortunate, deep gouges that were still embedded in her skin. Her face broke into a smile as they walked in. "I told you guys you didn't have to knock if the door's open."

"We didn't want to scare you," his roommate put in.

All he received was a scoff. "That shirt would scare me. What the hell? You two look like you came to mug somebody at the hospital! Is that how you're paying for this? You do hits?"

"Haha." Kyoya rolled his eyes. He'd been criticized about the way he dressed far too many times. "Of course it's like you to act so ungrateful."

"Aww," she cooed. "Is my little brother upset?"

He gave a light-hearted grin. He wasn't really in the mood for screwing around like this. "Well, the other reason I came was to get some of those antidepressants the doc recommended...but I'm thinking twice." Upon hearing this, their friend cackled with laughter.

"God, I swear. All those did was give you a sugar high."

Kyoya smirked. "Never taking those to a pub or a party ever again." His sister and his roommate giggled. His sibling'a eyes warmed as they cast over his friend, glowing with affection. "How are you?" She asked. She glanced pointedly at Kyoya. "Have our parents responded yet?"

Kyoya shrugged. "Nada. For all I know, they don't even know about the accident. We're not exactly kids anymore, so they're not listed as the emergency contacts..."

"...and the only other people we have listed is each other." The female's voice dripped with exasperation. "Lovely to see that our parents enjoy calling weekly. You'd think that such a protective couple would send us every message they could."

Their roommate snickered. "Look out for a billboard reading your names. Or maybe some clouds in the sky, written by plane." Kyoya's sister smiled sweetly, and this time it wasn't forced or threatening. "Aww. C'mere, you."

Kyoya looked away to give them some privacy as they snuggled. "You don't have to look so ashamed," his sister sighed mockingly. "It's okay, hon, not everyone's a part of a couple."

Kyoya grinned. "The two biggest asses in the whole world just happen to hook up, and I'm around. Wouldn't you call me single?" He backed out the room, waving. "See ya, Miju. I think I'll grab those drugs after all."

Mijuki shrugged. "Okay. Your loss."

However, as soon as her brother was put of sight, she pulled her boyfriend closer. "We have to hook him up," she hissed. "You didn't delete that secret eHarmony account we made him behind his back, right?"

Her boyfriend shook his head, a coy and cocky smile on his face, and she grinned wickedly. "I'll set him up with the next best girl who calls," he promised, climbing into the hospital bed

* * *

Noon was fast approaching when Zeo finally emerged, with his bike in tow.

And the very instant he did, Masamune jumped him. "What the-?" Zeo didn't have time to react before Masamune wrestled him up against the wall.

"What the hell?" He snarled in Masamune's face.

"I want to talk to Toby!" The hot-headed Japanese boy demanded.

Zeo's eyes cooled over. "Arrange it yourself."

Masamune bared his teeth. "You know I can't do that. Put me on the friggin guest list! Just let me speak to him. Just once, Zeo, to apologize." His voice dropped to a pleading whisper, and he even dropped the arm he was using to pin the American boy's neck, but Zeo's face was like a stone-carved expression.

"Never," he sneered. "Toby doesn't want to see you. Toby doesn't want to talk to you ever again."

Masamune recoiled. "Liar!" He fought tears as he clenched his fists, feeling once again like a child. "Let me see him! I want to explain!"

"What is there to explain?" Zeo's tone was harsh. "Everything we needed to know was in your departure. When you left that airport, you left us behind." He shouldered his schoolbag over his back again, giving Masamune one last cool look. "And now I'll do the same. Bye, Masamune."

His farewell held no trace of warmth; no trace of the old friendship they bore. Jumping back on his bike, Zeo steadily pedalled away across the grass, the chain rattling.

Masamune glowered at the ground, tears falling silently down his cheeks. His fists trembled with unusual bursts of energy, fuelled by anger. The grass would have burned, if looks could kill. With a small growl, Masamune stared at the American boy's back as he pedalled away. Then, with an ugly snarl writ over his face, he lunged forward and pelted after him with a speed he'd never used.

* * *

**Zeo is definitely going to be waking up with a couple of bruises... 0.0**

**Did anyone recognize Celine Garcia as the receptionist? : D**

**I apologize so greatly for the short chapter, and the way things are running along...It seems a bit rushed, I know.**


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